


Growing Up Strider

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post SBURB
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:07:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sburb, Dave can't focus enough to stay in school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Riding Fences

Your name is Dave Strider. You lived through something which affected you in more ways than you will ever know, and you can’t tell anyone about it. You tried to go back after The Game, but no matter what you tried, you couldn’t keep your focus. After surviving what you did, learning how to find the volume of a three dimensional object, rotated around the x-axis as it stretches to infinity seems completely useless. You lost yourself in your music. That, at least, was still there. Bro didn’t remember as much as you did. You think it’s because he died and you didn’t. Well, one of your selves didn’t.

Half way through your junior year of high school, you get expelled. After another failing grade on the final for your Government class, you get called to the councilor’s office. Bro is there already, and he and the student advisor are with the vice principle. When you walk in, the conversation dies, and it takes all of your willpower to keep from just walking out. Instead, you only look at Bro. You know this has been hard on him too. There have been visits from CPS (Some teacher thought she was doing you a favor. Really, all those stick figures you drew murdering each other was so that you didn’t pull a sword out and stab her) and interviews and observations. You felt bad about it at first, and tried. Really, you did. You put all your effort into your classes, made sure all your homework got done, even if it took you all night. Still, you found yourself slacking off. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the material, there was just no motivation. You couldn’t see the need for it.

“Dave, pull up a chair. This is just to talk, okay little man? This isn’t about getting you in trouble. None of us want that.” Slowly, you sit in the last available chair. Bro nods approvingly and you calm down. If he says that you’re not in trouble, then like hell it matters what anyone else says. The two other adults in the room relax a little as well. You know that they’re just doing their jobs, that they’re not trying to be mean or anything. The councilor is actually a nice dude. You’ve spent more than one lunch in this office just talking about whatever comes to mind. The guy’s got a good mind for rhymes and not a few of your sick beats have started here.

The vice principle cleared her throat. “So I’ve got some good new and some bad news. The bad news is that we can’t keep you in school anymore, Dave. The school board of trustees passed some bylaws a couple years ago. It was before I started here, so I don’t know much about what started it, but your cumulative GPA has been below the bottom line for more than two semesters. We can’t have you come back after this semester is over.”

It takes you a second to realize your head is dizzy because you’ve forgotten to inhale. The pit of your stomach falls and you don’t want to see Bro’s reaction to this, but at the same time, you can’t help but look at him. Through both your shades and his, however, you can still read his face. There’s no anger there. Something you can’t read, but not anger. He reaches out and messes your hair.

“No trouble, remember, little man? Just let the good woman finish her speech, alright? She can explain it better than I can.” You catch yourself biting your lip, but nod, forcing your attention back to the woman, nodding at her to continue. She did say something about good news. Maybe there’s a way out of this.

“There is something we can do though. It might sound a little weird first, but I think it will actually work better for you. You’re not eighteen yet, which means that you can’t take the GED tests yet. If we expel you, however, then you can. It’s a little bit backward, but that’s the state law here in Texas.” At the word ‘expel’ you tensed up, but when no upset over the proposal came, you slumped in your chair.

“What you’re trying to tell me,” You say, “is that for me to get out of here with better future prospects, I need to be expelled? How does that even work?” It’s been a long day, in a long month, in a long lifetime. What you want is go home and get back to work on that sick rift you’ve got waiting on your turntable. If you can get if finished by this weekend, Bro said he’d take you to his next gig on Saturday night, let you spin some.

“According to Texas law, the only exemptions for someone under the age of eighteen to take the exams for a GED are if they’re entering the Job Corps, or if the state gets involved. You’re smart, Dave. That isn’t the question here. Mr. Strider has told us some of what’s happened. You’ve been through some hard shit,” the councilor smiled. Part of why you liked him was that he talked like the students who came to him for advice. You could relate to this guy. “And that sucks. It’s good that you have an outlet in your music, and the three of us have been talking the past couple weeks. We think it would be best for you if you could go to a school that focuses on music. You could pour all your attention into it and not need to worry about which emperor took over which country a bazillion years ago.”

You smile up at the councilor. If they really are giving you a way out of here, you’re gonna miss him. He’s good people. But you can’t deny that going to music school in one form or another has crossed your mind more than once. You’ve always stopped short of asking them to send you something in the mail, but you’ve perused through no small number of websites. “It’s not that I don’t like history, sir. But really, who cares? They’re all dead anyway, right? It’s not like King So And So is going to get up and call me tomorrow, wanting to know who it was that killed him.” You give as big a smile as you ever do, which is barely there, and sit up a little straighter, interested in where this is going now. Your councilor laughs, and even the vice principle cracks a smile. Bro just nods in approval. Your cool factor is so high right now.

“So to get me out of here, you have to expel me, but it’s not in a bad way. It’s just to get around the fact that I’m still too young normally. Is that it? I get that. Where do I sign?” Today is the best day ever. You get out of this place, more time to spend at home and work on your tunes and hang out with your Bro. They only offer the test you need a couple times a year, so you have a few months to just chill. Just you and Bro. You don’t need anyone else. Striders are too swag for anyone else.


	2. Things that are pleasin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Boston, Dave runs into John... sort of

It’s hot and there’s not much you can do about it. This is the Land of Heat and Clockwork, after all. Still, your shirt sticks to your skin and you’re thirsty and there’s not really anything to drink around here. You thought you saw your Bro earlier, but it’s hard to tell. The imps keep coming out of the woodwork like cockroaches. You’ll never have to worry about grist again. All it takes is one mistake and you have to step back, only rather than merely dodging the imp, you step back through time. For a moment, you’re confused and you’re scared and you don’t know what just happened. You’re about to get up and keep going when in front of you is yourself. Not sure what to do, you freeze, watching the scene play out in front of you. Only this time, you don’t move in time. This time, the imp hits you, the other you, and you go down. Without thinking about it, you step over yourself and slice through the imp and the others behind him in one swing, your flash step carrying you past them all. You touch the ground only enough to step backward once again, your sword forgotten as you drop it, rolling the other you over to check for a pulse, for anything. Except, there’s nothing there, there’s nothing to find at all. 

You shuffle backward, stumble over your forgotten sword, trip and fall. In the game, you fell onto another platform, a slowly rotating gear. Now, you fall and land on a pile of corpses, all with your face. You scream, but the heat sucks the air from your lungs. You can’t breathe, there’s no air. It’s all too hot. It feels like you’re burning, and the corpses are sucking you in, pulling you down. You can’t get away. There’s nowhere to go, no way out. You shove the corpses away from yourself. You need to get out of here. Out, out is good. Up, go up. Can’t go up, stuck. Sword… cut your way free. Where is your sword? It’s up. You left it on the platform. You’re stuck. You’re going to get stuck here. Can’t get stuck… can’t be stuck. Need to get out. Can’t get out. You’re stuck, sinking down… 

You don’t scream anymore. You used to, at first. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, screaming at the nightmares that plagued you. They don’t happen as often now, and you’re used to them. This was the first one in a couple weeks. Still, it feels like you were strifing with Bro on the roof in the midday sun. Padding into the bathroom, you run the faucet, letting the cold water stream over your hands. There’s no point in going back to bed now. You won’t go back to sleep any time soon. If it were later in the morning, you might see if Dirk was up to strifing some, but it’s not quite three. He’s not home yet from his gig and won’t be for a while longer; something about some celebrity’s birthday party or something. Pulling a sweatshirt on and sliding your shades in place, you take your place at the turntables. You might as well bang out some sick beats while you wait for him to get home. 

Besides, your audition tapes need to be finished by the end of the week to allow for enough time in the mail. If the schools like your stuff, you might have to fly out for more auditions in person. It’s why you applied to this place just outside of Seattle. It’s not really the kind of school you’re looking for, but at the same time, you’d be up in that corner of the globe. It wouldn’t be too hard to drop in on Egbert. It’s been far too long since you’ve seen that kid.

* * * *

The plane ride was ten hours of your life you’re not getting back. What should have been simple was a complete disaster. First, when you and Bro arrived at the airport in Houston, somehow they had lost your ticket, and you had to pay for a second one. Once you managed to get on the plane, it was okay for a little while. The flight attendant was nice, and looked like some chick Bro would have brought home. He hasn’t had overnight company in a while though, so maybe not. There was supposed to only be an hour layover in Chicago, but as you were landing, there was some pretty bad turbulence, and the planes were all grounded due to high winds for four hours instead. You thought you were going to go crazy. There isn’t a whole lot to do while stuck on an airplane. You did pull out your laptop though, and check Pesterchum.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 6:42

TG: john  
TG: hey john  
TG: are you there  
TG: man dont leave me hanging here  
TG: john whered you go  
TG: fuck youre out arent you  
TG: well im stuck on an airplane because of some windy shit and wanted to know if you were in the area  
TG: guess not  
TG: well at least one of us is having fun right now  
TG: dont do anything i wouldnt do  
TG: which is pretty much nothing

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 7:56

Bro was doing his own thing on his laptop, so you just put your headphones in and tried to fall asleep. There wasn’t a whole lot you could do about the lack of leg room, but at least you kept your knees out of the back of the person in front of you. You’re startled awake by your Bro after what seems like only a minute, but it must have been longer, because the three hour wait had just whizzed right on by. The nice flight attendant was back, very politely asking you both to put your computers away, because they were preparing for take-off. Switching from laptop to iPod, you keep your headphones in, but catch yourself drifting off again, turned almost sideways in the seat, leaning back against Dirk’s shoulder. The next thing you know, you’re being shaken awake again because you’re landing at General Edward Lawrence Logan International Airport, Boston, Massachusetts. It was cheaper to fly here than New York proper, and your Bro thought the two of you could make a trip out of it. You’re glad it’s April. Looking out the window of the airplane, you would swear it’s still January. Either you still have your time powers, or someone forgot to tell the weather what month it was. Shivering in spite of yourself, you pull on your sweatshirt, then your jacket over that, glad you decided on better shoes than your usual Converse. Normally, you’re not one for boots, but it kind of went with the rest of the look. Your Bro, on the other hand, had dusted off his cowboy boots and hat, and looked like all the stereotypes back home, ironically of course.

One taxi ride and hotel check in later, you’re lounging on the bed, room service hot chocolate steaming away between your hands as you warm your fingers back up. There’s some shitty movie on the TV and you’re just relaxing when your phone chirps.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 2:34

EB: dave! dave are you there?  
EB: i just got off a plane, man. sorry i wasn’t there earlier.  
EB: i’m taking a tour of the harvard medical campus this weekend. gonna try and get in to medical school. i was thinking after talking to you before, and sent out a couple piano auditions too.  
EB: oh man, what time is it? you’re probably asleep or something, aren’t you?  
TG: no its cool im here  
TG: just got off a plane myself i got an audition this weekend in the frozen wastes  
TG: froze my fingers off just walking from the taxi to the hotel its like the tundra out here  
TG: endless freezing expanse just waiting to pick me off like the weak human i am  
TG: expecting to make it through this miserable weather  
EB: no kidding! my plane got delayed because of the weather here. you have your sick beats to keep you warm though, right? all those sicknasty burns to keep your temperature up, hehehe!  
TG: yeah i got those egbert i got all the burns youll ever need right here  
TG: youre just jealous of my hot beats and mad sick rhymes bro  
TG: gonna make you burn up wherever the fuck you are all the way over there  
TG: theyre gonna medevac you somewhere in detroit cause of the temperature youre running  
TG: dont even fucking sweat youll tell them its just daves sweet sweet words making tender love to my eardrums exploding all over my taste buds  
TG: and theyll be like thats tight bro lemme get you a cigarette cause youll need that shit when im done with you  
TG: youll be seeing sparks ive got you going so bad  
TG: john  
TG: john you there  
TG: fuck where did you go now  
EB: sorry dave! i just had to… do something for a minute.  
EB: where are you anyway? you sound like you’re in alaska or something  
TG: naw not that far away  
TG: im in boston  
EB: why didn’t you say so? that’s where harvard is, dave!  
EB: we should get lunch or something while we’re both here!  
TG: you mean we’re in the same city  
TG: well shit son lets do this lets make this happen  
EB: sounds good dave! i should get some sleep. it is three in the morning and i crossed three time zones too. i’ll talk to you in the morning!

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 3:07

You’re not quite sure what just happened, but there was something. You look back over your conversation, trying to figure out when you went from talking to your best friend to something else. It all seems normal, just you and John talking. You may have taken it a little far with that metaphor, but there’s nothing in it out of the ordinary. Maybe you’re just tired. It is rather late, and you have to make sure all your gear is ready for the audition when you get up tomorrow. A little shut eye won’t hurt. Grabbing some sweats from your bag, you change and brush your teeth in the bathroom, dive bombing the bed staked out as yours on your way back. Phone and glasses get stashed on the nightstand and you don’t even remember falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> My roommate plays guitar and often Eagles songs. This kind of came out of that. Also, listening to Hotel California and Desperado on repeat over and over is enough to drive anyone crazy. But it makes me write. Go figure.
> 
> Also, Texas education laws are slightly baffling. If there's someone out there who knows better than me, please, let me know!


End file.
